Friends and Family
by dreamingofgallifrey
Summary: Its been eight months since the final battle ended. Harry's been distant and alone. When Harry resurfaces to the new wizarding world who will help him out of his grief?
1. Walking Away

"Harry! Harry Potter!"

"Look over here, sir. A photo for the Daily Prophet?"

"No sir, the Wizarding Times! The Final Battle, an interview? Please sir-"

Harry walked by strangely detached from it all. He raised a hand occasionally to wave off the swarms of reporters and made his way through the crowd.

It had been only a few months since the battle which had ended it all. Harry wanted nothing more than to forget it all and start a new life but he couldn't, not when everyone in the world wanted to know, claimed it as their right to know...

He felt dazed by the flashing lights of the cameras. The first time this had happened, he'd ended up screaming at the reporters, nearly breaking down, but Ginny, Hermione and Ron had managed to haul him out of the mess undamaged.

Now he no longer had the strength to fend them off.

He walked quickly down the street keeping his head down. This was the last time he'd walk anywhere. He sighed shaking his head. Floo powder was quicker, not to mention reporter free. After a while the reporters finally seemed to get the message and little by little they left him, until 20 minutes later he was alone.

Alone. He sighed again, his breath an icy cloud in front of him. He wanted to be away from the reporters, away from everyone. He wanted space and time to just lie in a bed and stare at cracks in the ceiling thinking about all he had lost. Hermione had been worried about him because so far he hadn't shed a single tear. She thought it might be grief, a deep hole which could not be repaired.

Naturally being Hermione, she'd started borrowing books on psychiatry from the library pretending to be an eager Muggle student. He'd overheard her whole conversation with Ron about it.

He had been alone and distant for months.

He knew he should change that, there were people who depended on him. That was why he was headed towards number 93, Acacia Close.

Harry spotted a group of witches around the corner of the street. They recognised him immediately even though he was wearing Muggle clothing (an extra disguise). He groaned as they rushed towards him wearing dazzling smiles and straightening out their clothes, searching their pockets for quills.

He reckoned it was about as rude as slapping their faces, but he couldn't take this anymore.

Just as they reached him, he turned on his heel and apparated.

He gulped for air and pulled his coat closer around him.

He had stopped in front of a small house and stared. It was everything he had wanted as a little boy. A messy front garden to play on rather than to keep immaculately clean, a large room to himself and most of all, someone who loved him, someone who didn't think he was a waste of space.

The little boy had that all right here.

And he was going to get more. Harry was determined of that.

But he was as nervous as he was determined so he swallowed hard as he knocked on the door.


	2. A Greeting

The door creaked open.

A middle aged woman with dark hair and heavy lidded eyes stared at him. Even now, Harry was struck by her resemblance to her late sister.

"Harry Potter" the woman smiled uncertainly at him.

"I...Erm..." Harry started awkwardly, "I came to visit, to see him but if you... Don't want..."

"Well that makes it all clear!" the woman suddenly let out a laugh, short and sharp, "Don't be so awkward dear, and come in. Think of this as your second home."

Tears pricked viciously at Harry's eyes but he managed a smile, "Thank you so much... Andromeda."

And as she led him into the cosy living room, Harry realised he hadn't felt as accepted or happy in a long time.


	3. First Words

Authors Note:

Just wanted to say thank you for all the reviews, they've been a great help to me while I was writing this chapter.

Harry and Teddy finally meet!

* * *

><p>The first word Harry's godson ever heard him say was,<p>

"Purple!"

"He's a Metamorphagus, just like your mummy aren't you darling?" Andromeda cooed, tickling the little boy until he shrieked with laughter.

"Teddy- whoa! His hair! It- it changed! It's blue, bright blue!"

"Didn't you ever see my daughter do that, Harry?" Andromeda asked smiling sadly, "Now sit down dear, I'll get you a cup of tea while you mind Teddy for a while."

She all but fled from the room to get the tea and left Harry thinking about Tonks and Lupin...again. They were always in his thoughts now.

Pull yourself together; he instructed himself firmly, you still have what they left behind.

He slid off the sofa and knelt next to the small toddler who was playing with little balls of light flying around him, just out of reach of his chubby hands. A strange little charm really. He made a mental note to ask Hermione how it should be done.

Harry wasn't exactly sure how you communicated to a toddler.

"Er... Hello Teddy"

The small child smiled and looked at Harry's face curiously as if to ask, who are you? Harry was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to simper and coo over a baby like most people would. How did you get across to a toddler? Could Teddy talk yet? Well he could walk at least.

With all these frantic queries running through his mind, he was only certain of one thing.

He wasn't good with little kids.

Meanwhile Teddy stared at him expectantly.

Harry looked into his large chocolate brown eyes, reminding him painfully of Tonks. This small child really was the last refuge he had, the last reminder that there was still life after death and hope after loss.

Teddy beamed at him. Harry felt himself grinning back; it was impossible to resist.

And he thought to himself, it feels good to smile genuinely for once rather than plastering a grin on his face for Ron and Hermione and Ginny to show them he was alright. Then he spoke softly but happily,

"Hello Teddy. I'm Harry. I'm your godfather. "

Teddy seemed to recognise the words.

Slowly he spoke, the one word that would make all the difference in the world,

"Harry."


	4. Oh Teddy

"Oh Teddy!" Hermione squealed as the small boy reached out again with his chubby hand, knocking over the cereal bowl, yet again.

"I'll get it" said Ron hastily, waving his wand in a large arc which just served to make the bowl flip over, strewing its contents over the carpet. He smiled sheepishly at Hermione's glare while Teddy shrieked with laughter.

"You are hopeless Ron!" Hermione said, still half annoyed but now smiling all the same. She sat Teddy up in his high chair and disappeared into the kitchen. Her hand poked around the door and she flicked her wand at the cereal bowl on the floor which promptly returned to the table, the mess on the floor clearing itself up. She returned to the room with another bowl of cereal.

"That was the exact thing I tried!" Ron protested at Hermione's smug smile, "Harry, it was wasn't it?" Ron turned round for back up but Harry was kneeling on the floor with a bag, busy sorting out the toddler's toys.

"One minute Ron" Harry muttered, summoning a bright yellow building block out of the bag with his wand, "Blimey these Muggle things are boring, reckon Teddy would have more fun if I changed these a bit"

A huge grin spread over Ron's face, "Self building blocks? Sounds like something out of Weasley Wizard Weezes..." Ron tensed.

The grin quickly disappeared.

"Is George okay, after everything you know?" Harry mumbled awkwardly

"Coping" Ron said shortly, "Anyway let's get on with these toys eh?" He crouched down next to the bag and pulled out a toy train.

Harry didn't protest and it was a long while before Ron's hard face showed signs of softening. But Harry knew he was going to have to talk to George soon, losing someone like that was hard.

And he was responsible for it.

A lance of pain shot through his chest.

He'd as good as killed so many people. Maybe if he hadn't existed, Teddy would have parents.

Don't be stupid, he told himself, Who knows what would've happened, just accept it has happened and get on with the here and now.

Yeah, that was a good policy for the future.

Hermione smiled at the sight of Ron and Harry with building blocks and toys all over the floor around them. She put Teddy down on the carpet to play and collapsed on the sofa with a mug of coffee clasped tight in her hands.

"Looking after Teddy must have been difficult on your own Harry. Goodness knows I'd need all three of us to be here." she said, then pausing to drain the cup of coffee.

"I know, that was difficult. Only managed a day without having Andromeda apparating in. It was quite possibly the most difficult thing I have ever done. I needed you guys today." There was a long silence but it was oddly comfortable, the way a golden silence can only ever be between the best of friends. Then Harry spoke again, "He's a little terror but I love him really"

"You really do" Hermione said softly, sliding off the sofa onto the carpeted floor next to Ron and Harry.

Harry gave a strange but radiant smile, the corner of his mouth turning up. For once, he was genuinely alright.

"Bloody hell! Save me Hermione, I'm being attacked!" Ron yelped.

Ron was lying face down on the carpet, his yells now being muffled by little Teddy, who was sitting on his back, thumb stuck in his mouth.

Harry roared with laughter as he gently pulled Teddy off Ron's back and Ron got back up, massaging his spine.

"Ron! Your language! Teddy will not be picking that sort of thing up at this age!" Hermione scolded, her voice sharp.

"Sorry ma'am," Ron rolled his eyes, "But crikey that kid nearly killed me, Harry! Watch out!"

"How did he get over here so fast? Like mini apparation almost!" Hermione exclaimed trying to tame her messy hair back into a ponytail.

Ron pulled Teddy onto his lap and started bouncing him up and down, "Crikey mate, no way can he apparate at this age! Not fair!"

"Probably just trying out some of the stuff he can do, eh Teddy?" Harry tickled him under the chin and Teddy's hair promptly turned bright blue , "Really does love that colour" Harry mused.

The doorbell rang.

"I'll get it" Harry said, pulling himself up off the floor and out of the room.

And at that moment , three of the best friends in world sitting there with an electric blue haired baby made the best kind of contentment.


	5. In the Mirror

I stare into the mirror. You look back at me.

You're always there now. Watching. Waiting.

Slowly, I raise my hand to the glass. The action is so cautious, it almost seems fearful. Maybe it is. Maybe I am scared. Scared that you aren't real, or scared that you are?

I can't tell.

My hand inches closer to the glass, ignoring my misgivings. I want- no, I need to know if you are there, if you are solid and real. Part of me whispers that I'm being stupid, that it would be impossible. I lean closer anyway, like I'm in a trance. It could be possible. What's the use of magic if it can't even do this?

Just before my palm makes contact with the glass, I stop. My breath catches in my throat. I look at you, studying your face closely. Your hair is the same bright ginger as mine. It's sticking up everywhere- the result of many sleepless nights, tossing and turning in the same restless anticipation. Because every night you stay awake waiting for the pain to hit. Just like it did that day in the Great Hall. But the wave of pain never hits. You stay painless. Numb. At first you were thankful for it but soon enough it became a curse. There's no pain, because you're still waiting.

Still waiting for his return.

And he won't come back.

I sigh, never taking my eyes off yours. Your face is tired. So very tired. I think you remember when life used to be a joke, don't you? When it was you and me annoying the hell out of everyone else, and not giving a damn about it. I think you remember.

It's hard to forget.

Your eyes are haunted. We used to be so good at keeping the horrors and fears away. We always had two pairs of shoulders to bear the burden. How does everyone else function like this? Alone. Just me, myself and I.

I close my eyes for a brief moment. I want to flop back onto my bed and lose myself to the black depths of sleep.

I can't contemplate that. Why would I want to forget you?

My eyes snap open. I move my hand just a little closer to the mirror. So close now, so close.

And yet you're still so very far away.

I wave at you. Sure enough, you mirror my actions.

A smile plays on your lips even while a tear trails down your cheek. I'm astounded. How long have I longed to see that smile again?

I'm so sure now. I know it. If I stare hard enough, at just the right angle, I can see you. The real you. Waiting here for me all this time.

"George" a soft voice calls.

I turn around as our bedroom door squeaks open.

It's only Ginny. Our baby sister, Ginny.

"George" she says again, softly, her chocolate brown eyes melting my heart with their concern.

I just sit there, unable to respond. I'm thinking of what would've happened if you were here. By now, you would've yelled a witty remark across the room and I would've followed it up with a sarcastic comment and she would've promised to cast a Bat Bogey Hex on both of us, just as soon as she was old enough to use magic.

And now she is old enough. Our baby sister has grown up. I didn't see it happening. Did you?

A soft sob escapes from my throat. I grit my teeth, but it doesn't stop the tears.

She sits down beside me and hugs me tightly, trying to keep all the broken pieces of me from falling out and getting lost. She hugs me so tightly that it feels like I'm whole again, just for those few, short moments. I feel like telling her everything. Fred, I feel like telling her all my thoughts and longings and wishes. She'd understand, wouldn't she?

She pulls away all too quickly, but I'm not going to admit it.

We sit there in silence for a while, together, as the tear tracks dry on my face. She doesn't try to talk, she knows I don't want to speak. Words can't express anything. Not anymore.

After a while, she leaves. I hadn't even noticed. Time travels in strange ways when you aren't here.

I look at you in the mirror again. I reach out with my hand, determined not to stop this time. I lean closer and closer. My hand almost touches your face.

But my palm is blocked by the mirror. The cold glass sends a shiver through my body. I look at my hand, splayed across the mirror.

A pane of glass. That's all that stands between you and me.

Just a pane of glass, Fred. Just a pane of glass.

It might as well be a million miles.


End file.
